Black Sails and Siren Songs
by vampiric.princess
Summary: "Tha' girl may not be blood, mate, but she migh' as well be," he whispered. "The single most important treasure Flint ever stole." Billy/OC [T for now but will eventually lead to M.]
1. Ablaze

**A/N;** So lately I have come utterly obsessed with the show Black Sails, well obviously, isn't that how fan fictions always start? Anyways obsession which lead to reading fan fiction which lead to the observation of the horribly small if not almost nonexistent Billy Bones fics.  
Which is how I ended up here. I have an idea of how and where I'd like this story to progress and if my writing goes where my mind goes, it'll be juicy, adventurous, sweet, exciting and altogether deliciously smutty.

But will you all read it? That is the dilemma. So please read, review and tell me if you'd like to see more!

**Disclaimer;** I don't own Black Sails or Billy Bones_ (who is sadly not in this chapter, stick around and you'll see him!)_ but everything else is entirely me.

**Chapter One; Ablaze**

Her good mood had vacated the premise hours ago. It had taken up, with what little was left of her patience and hightailed it out of there. The tavern was thick with humidity and packed with drunken rowdy pirates in varying degrees of undress.

Charlie Bennett was exhausted, her long curls were slick against her shoulder blades and pieces stuck to the back of her neck. She pulled her hair up atop her head with a leather strap and rolled her neck, stretching out her shoulders until she felt a satisfying crack.

Filling her pints and loading her tray she kicked off her boots. They were too hot.

Though only a single wispy wrapped layer, her dress felt too heavy, too tight, too hot.

Everything was too hot.

She sighed and went about her rounds, her anklet tinkling as she twirled amongst the tables, placing a drink here, collecting coins there.

She wished she was out by the sea.

Nassau was in the midst of a heat wave that refused to break. For days the temperature climbed, soaring to infernal heights, Providence was ablaze. With barely any breeze to speak of, even the sea was still, a calm and quiet vastness that slowed the tide.

The first couple days, Providence had gone about business as usual but now, on day four, work had all but come to a halt. Canopies had been stretched out across the street outside the tavern. Big billowy sheets in varying shades and patterns, to ward off the suns scathing rays. The few who dared to work, set up their stalls underneath, all along the winding road. The entire street had been turned into a colourful tented bazaar.

The rest of the townsfolk, in an a futile attempt to escape the clogging heat, either retreated indoors or took to the sea. Hiding inside with their fans or laying along Nassau's beaches and frolicking in the water.

Then there were the resident pirates, who had decided it was too hot to work but not too hot to drink. They flocked to the tavern in droves, setting up shop, they gambled and sang, drinking and eating till they passed out. Promptly wasting away their days and most of their nights. That being said, was why Charlie was here. Due to the sheer number of patrons, Eleanor Guthrie had been overrun and understaffed. When Eleanor had come knocking on her door, Charlie had yelled at her to go away, her days of serving as a barmaid were over. The mistake she made was letting Eleanor in. One look in to those sad hopeful eyes and Charlie had caved. That had been two days ago.

A rough hand came down on her ass, only for a second before Charlie whipped around, snatching a knife off the table beside her. In seconds, the blade was at his throat.

"I don't think you want to be doing that," she sang.

Glazed eyes level with her chest, he continued smiling as his eyes raked over her body. His dirty hand reaching out for her again, until his eyes met hers. He paled, recognition dawning on his face as he took her in. He recoiled from her, leaning so far back in his chair, he toppled to the ground. Standing up immediately he started speaking, fast and garbled, Charlie could barely make out a word before he passed out.

This was exactly why she hated serving. Usually, the pirates of Providence let her be, she was off limits. But a pirate in a drunken stupor became stupid and foolish, not to mention forgetful, some going as far as to forget who she was.

She really shouldn't have let Eleanor in.

"Charlie!" a voice called over the boisterous crowd.

Speak of the devil.

Making her way over to the bar, Charlie put her tray down, leaning on the bar she turned to Eleanor, "Ya know I used to like you," she sighed, smiling tiredly at her friend.

"Oh I know," Eleanor laughed, "Which is exactly why I want you to go home."

"What? But I thought-"

"No," she said effectively cutting Charlie off, "Forget whatever it is that you thought. You're wonderful but you've been here for two days, you're exhausted. Have you even slept at all?"

"I got in a few hours last night, in the storeroom."

Eleanor exhaled loudly bringing a hand up to her head, "Jesus christ, Charlie. I'm sorry. You've been a great friend, quite literally saving my ass and I-"

"It's fine."

"No, Charlie, it isn't," Eleanor presses.

"Yes, it is. You were swamped and I chose to stay and help, besides you feeling absolutely horrible about it all makes me feel better already," she smirked, "Plus, think of all the fun you'll have trying to make it up to me."

Eleanor laughed pushing her towards the door, "Get gone you bitch, before I put you back to work."

"Aye, aye Cap'n!" she smiled, hugging her friend goodbye, "Speaking of, do you know when the ship's due back?"

"In this weather? I haven't the slightest clue. If the wind out on the water is as nonexistent as here, it could take them an extra week at least."

Charlie sighed, "I figured as much."

She gave her one last smile before disappearing into the night.

As she stepped out of the tavern and into the canopied street, Charlie smiled.

If there was one thing that she loved about this infernal heat wave, it was the evening. Providence always came alive when the sun went down, but the heat wave had brought along an alluring facet to the town. The canopies that had been stretched out overhead, billowed soft and vibrant across the streets. The lanterns had been lit and enveloped the night in a muted flickering glow. She had taken to wandering the stalls on her walk home, gazing up at the patterned sheets above, like an exotic gypsy caravan, Providence had been transformed.

When she arrived home her purse was significantly lighter and another silver anklet jingled around her slender ankle. Her bag was stocked with fresh bread and produce as she made her way across the dock. She lived at the edge of town, in a house built over the expanse of a small cove, and out by the water it was breathtaking. The sky stretched from horizon to horizon, a deep darkness lit up by thousands of stars. The ocean was deep and dark, a tidal uproar that broke the sweeping stretch of sky mirrored amongst the waves. Flint had built a swing off the edge of the dock, it hung out over the water making it was one of her favourite places in the world. It was here that she retreated to after packing away her groceries, curling up into the gentle cotton as she was rocked into a deep slumber.

**A/N;** So? What do we think? Shall I go on? Reviews are love.


	2. Sun and Stranded Ships

**A/N; **Two in one day! Don't get used to it, it's a Sunday and I have nothing better to do, plus I figured maybe I'd get a little more feedback if there was more here to gauge.

**Disclaimer;** I do not own the Walrus or any of its crew... sadly.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to PadfootCc, , and PruRose, my first reviewers, this is for you! XOXO

**Chapter 2;**** Sun and Stranded Ships**

Her pleasant dreams of the heat wave ending it seems were just in fact that, pleasant dreams. Charlie woke with the rising sun, already covered in a fine sheet of sweat. Grumbling she unfurled her body, stretching her limbs and blinking up at the brightening pink sky. She stood up and coiled her body low, leaping over onto the dock from her perch. Landing nimbly on her toes, she smoothed down her dress and made her way towards the house.

The sun had just risen over the horizon, sending rays of orange and pink across the sky, it lit up the cove. This house had been the one true home Charlie had ever known. It was log cabin, one singular floor but stretching out entirely across the small secluded cove. A deck wrapped around the entire front, half sticking out over the water and the rest splayed across the edge of the sand. It was perfect, straight out of a dream, and it was all hers.

Well, almost.

The other sometimes inhabitant was the dashing and charismatic James Flint. Captain James Flint. Which along with being a fearsome Captain of his own ship and crew, left Charlie alone most of the time. Which you would think, that being a young petite girl, living all alone would cause some worry, yet, she was perfectly safe and sound. Another upside of living in the care of a menacing pirate lord, she was for the most part untouchable. There was barely a soul in Providence who was unaware of that fact. The last man to, how should we put it kindly, 'lay the moves' on dear Charlie many years ago, not too mysteriously, had his arm broken in three places. I daresay that he didn't come around again.

Flint was protective, to say the least. He was the one crystal clear memory that filled Charlie childhood. It was Flint who taught Charlie how to swim, and how to walk, in exactly that order. He brushed her hair and got her ready for bed, tucked her in and told her epic stories of swashbuckling pirates and dashing heroes, who, in Flint's eyes were usually one and the same. He bought her clothes and toys and patched her up when she fell. Taught her to ride a horse and swing a blade, tie knots and read coordinates. He had taken her in and raised her as his own, the only real father she had ever known.

She didn't remember much of her mother, a soothing voice that sung her to sleep, clung to edges of her memory and that of an old faded sketch. It used to be tacked to the inside of Flint's compass but after finding her curled up, hugging it to her chest one too many times he had finally given it to her. It was now safely stuck to the edge of her mirror in her room. Time to time, she caught him in there, perched on the edge of her bed staring at it. It tugged on her heart strings. From what she had been told, Flint and her mother had had an epic love affair, a tale for the ages. But when when her mother had succumbed to consumption, Charlie was left all alone, with not a soul in the world. She didn't remember much of the dark days that followed, only that when Flint had shown up, blown in by a strong wind, and the fighting was done he had held her in his arms. She did remember that he smelt like sea salt and spiced rum.

She made it to the house a smile on her face, pulling a long chain from around her neck she unlocked the door. A tinkling reverberated through the room as an orange tabby, swirled around her legs, mewling.

"And good morning to you too, Flin," she laughed, reaching down to scratch him between the ears.

She had gotten Flin on her sixth birthday, something to keep her company when Flint began going out to see for more then a few days. A shade that perfectly matched Flint's beard, she had affectionally named the newborn kitten after him. Though she got older and learned how to properly pronounce Flint, the cat always remained Flin, a little fact that still made the crew chuckle.

She walked down the long hallway into her room, yawning as she swiftly braided her hair back. Her room was spacious and homey, paneled with dark wood and a large window that looked out over the sea. Her bed was lavish, a dark four-poster queen, covered with wispy green fabric and an old net. Her dressers were littered with sea shells and starfish, sand dollar and assortments of bracelets. She filled her basin from the ceramic jug she kept beside and quickly splashed her face with water, cleaning the dirt and salt from her eyes. Drying her face she sat down at her vanity and looked herself over. Her eyes shone green and luminous, amongst the dark circles underneath. She unwove the braid from her hair until it hung in crazy waves around her face, reaching down past her waist. It was a rich chestnut colour, lightened with numerous blonde highlights from her years in the sun. Apart from a light layer of salt covering her long locks and some dismal bags underneath her eyes, she didn't look half bad for someone who had only had a few hours of sleep outside.

The sun had fully risen in the sky, when Charlie retreated from her room, clad in only a small pair of shorts and a billowy white shirt of Flints she headed back outside and towards her small beach. Stopping by the shed, she grabbed a brightly coloured paper umbrella that Flint had brought her back from his last voyage to Japan.

Today she would spend exactly how she wanted, out on the beach lying in the surf, away from stifling taverns and loud drunken pirates.

**BillyBones;**

"I swear, if I hear that god awful song one more time, I will fling myself overboard!"

William "Bones" Manderly had been stuck on this barely moving ship for nigh on five days already. The scorching heat had rolled in and the wind had rolled out. Other then a gentle rolling, the ship had scarcely moved. The crew was drunk, five sheets to the wind on the last stash of rum drunk. Its a bloody miracle, no one had fallen overboard... but at this rate Billy would be the first.

"Nah, nah, nah nah nahh nahhhhhh, and really bad eggs!" The chorus went up again.

He jumped up from his position, lounging on some crates and stalked off towards the stairs below deck. Jumping down the steps he kicked the door open into the storeroom, nearly taking out Gates in the process.

Taking in his surly appearance, Gates chuckled, "Ya know, ya lastest longer then I thought ya would."

Billy leaned his head back on the wall behind him, sighing.

"Th' crews just gone a bit... stir crazy, it be the heat," Gates attempted to reason.

"Or maybe its the fact that we were due back at port a week ago," Billy countered.

"Aye, tha' too. Th' wind will pick up soon, mate, it always does," he smiled, clapping Billy on the shoulder before making his way down the hall.

Billy had been picked up by the crew of Walrus, about roughly eight months ago. In the time they had only been back at their home port of Providence once. That had been months ago, and as the newest recruit Billy had been so overworked he'd barely even stepped off the ship. Since then he'd gone to great lengths to prove himself. He'd risen quickly in the ranks, his tall towering height and strong build, giving him a keen advantage. No longer was he stuck with the menial sewer rats chores. He worked hard, and fought harder. For the most part, he'd become part of the crew, almost going as far as to call most friends.

And hopefully if he got off this ship soon, they'd remain so.

A/N; So quite a few views, but not too many reviews... good or bad? C'mon throw me a life line here, pretties. Please review.


	3. Western Winds

**A/N;** So I totally meant to update sooner, honest, things have just been a little hectic for me and my family. Not to mention the weather here has been super crappy, which directly impacts my work days, as I work in construction. So exhausting days. Which is also why this chapter isn't nearly as long as I wanted it to bed, I just had to get something out to you guys:) Ill try to update more and speedier, but please be patient with me.

On that note, I simply cannot explain how happy all the reviews and follow have made me, and the favourites? Swoon* You guys are amazing, I love you all! Please keep up with the

**Disclaimer;** Billy Bones and the crew of the Walrus are not mine, sadly.

**Chapter 3****; Western Winds**

When Charlie woke up the skies were dark and ominous. The heat was still thick and cloying but the winds had returned with a vengeance. Violent and howling across the cove, she sat up straight as her umbrella was ripped from its place in the sand beside her. Shouting she reached up, her fingers grasping the shaft for a moment, a quick goodbye, before it was whisked away into the sky.

She buttoned her white shirt and ran for the house, tripping over the sand as she went, hands covering her face. She reached the door and lifted the heavy latch, scurrying inside she pushed all her weight against the door. The wind was fierce and abusive, beating against the house with its fists, it attempted to invade the house. With a final heave of her aching shoulder she slammed the door, plunging the house into echoing darkness. She allowed herself only one quick moment to catch her breath and still her frantic beating heart before setting to work. Pulling her hair into a quick braid she walked through the kitchen, towards the back door. Making sure the latch was down, she then flipped a heavy board down in place with a loud thud. Next she walked to the windows, one by one she made her way through the house, closing latches and boards until the house was meticulously fortified.

Charlie flopped down on to the couch, utterly spent. Filling a glass of coconut water from a pitcher on the table, she drained it dry. Stretching out her sore arms and back, she pushed her hair out from her face, it was damp with sweat. A fine sheen covered her entire body. Goddamn fucking storm. Only in the Caribbean would storms come on sudden and violent, leveling houses and tossing ships into the depths. And only in the Caribbean would 130 mile/hour winds ravage the land and rise up the seas... but still the temperature climbed. Warm rains poured down from the dark sky, clashing against the western winds, they fought, until hot clouds of steam misted across the island. The wind rolled the mists back and forth, swallowing whole towns and then receding again, back and forth like a grey phantom of the ocean. A ghostly wave of rising tides.

As the rain finally broke free from the heavy swell of the heavens, Charlie sat up. She always like the rain. It tinkled across the roof of the house, reverberating through the rooms like a song. Standing up from the couch she twirled across the floor, dancing to the special song of the rain that only she could hear. Arms raised, tendrils of hair escaping from her long braid she spun until a giggle rose up from her chest.

"Great, I've finally lost it," she smiled sadly to herself, "Flint has been gone to long."

A drop of water splashed to her cheek. Followed by another.

She stopped and looked up at the steady drip of water falling from a seam in the ceiling, she scowled, "Flint has been gone too long.

She made her way over to the window and grabbed the silver pot off the ledge. Had the window been open she would have seen the white sails on the horizon.

Placing it under the leak, she went about lighting the lanterns, humming to herself, "Yo ho, yo ho.."

Had the window been open she would have noticed the dark solitary silhouette crossing the ridge into the small cove.

"...A pirate's life for me."

BillyBones;

The ship rolled and heaved across the water, crashing into squalls as it battled to stay afloat. Diving into the surf, the ship creaked and rocked plunging under the waves like its namesake, before righting itself again.

Billy sputtered, coughing up water as he fought his way over to the ship's mast. He held on to the ropes, wrapping his arm around them as the ocean receded back over the side of the ship.

Where was the crew? Billy couldn't see a soul beyond Gates.

Flint was at the helm, trying to keep the ship steady as he yelled orders at a nonexistent crew.

"Gates!" he roared over the wind.

The quartermasters head snapped up, locking eyes with Billy before he made his way over, struggling against the wind and rocking ship.

"Billy!" he screamed, pushing him forward, "Go beneath deck an' muster tha' crew, find whoever still be able an' get them back up 'ere. If we don't get this ship in ta' port soon, we'll be lost t' tha' locker!"

Billy shook his head and rushed to the doors, ripping them open he bounded down the stairs. He hadn't bothered to pull the door closed behind him and a whistling filled the hallway as he ran towards the crew's quarters in the hull. He barely slowed as he made it to the door, kicking it open with a loud bang as he barreled into the room. A few crew mates startled upright, falling off their bunks and hammocks. Those who had actually made it to their bunks, that is.

"Oi! Get up!" Billy hollared, "On deck, mates! Capn's orders!"

Only five stirred.

Billy went round the room. Turning over hammocks and lifting up bunks, he all but kicked them out of bed. It was useless. The crew had been drunk for days, lying in the sun and singing songs they had completely obliterated the ship's store of rum. Most of them didn't budge at all, just tumbled over onto the floor and continued unfazed through their drunken slumber. He had to reach down and check the pulses of a few men who rolled across the floor into the wall with a sudden lurch of the ship.

He decided that six was the best hope he could ask for after Davis, mighty handy on the rigging, stood up and proceeded to vomit at Billy's feet.

"Alright gents, up top!"

Back on deck, things had not gotten any better. As he made his way to the stern, he ran into Gates.

"Well? Where be tha' crew, boy?" He questioned, hands full of rope.

Billy tilted his back at the six wide-eyed men behind him.

"Six?" Gates whispered, "SIX?!"

"Was all I could rouse."

"Tha's it, were done for," Gates grumbled, shaking hie head, "Bring 'em to the Cap'n and now... Now would be a good time to start prayin' lad."

Billy nodded and took off for the wheel.

When he reached the upper deck the Captain was manning the wheel. Wild eyed with his lip pulled in between his teeth. Beads of blood dotted his beard. Shirtless, like the rest of them, his body was tense and coiled, muscles straining as he battled the waves. Hair, half loose from the leather strap that usually held it back, hung around his face in knots. At that moment Billy had never seen a fiercer pirate captain.

"Captain!" He called out, breaking Flint's trance, "What are your orders?"

"Tie everythin' down!" Flint shouted, voice deep and hoarse over the thunderous winds, "Let loose all tha' sails!"

Billy eyes went wide.

The crewmate beside him, GASPED. Light brown hair with broad shoulders covered in swirling tattoos, Billy could not remember his name. "_All the sails?_ Buh, Cap'n! In this wind we'll be tossed straight ta tha' locker!"

Flint fixed him with a hard stare, "And if we don't? We'll surely be lost."

**A/N;** Please be kind and review if you want them to make it out of the storm ;) tootles!


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